


Golden Soul, Ashen Skin

by Yulicia



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, Meeting Again, Past Relationship(s), World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, bi icon jaina proudmoore, watch as i play fast and loose with warcraft canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 19:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18349793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yulicia/pseuds/Yulicia
Summary: After the Battle of Dazar'alor Jaina is instructed to meet a strange visitor in the middle of the night and acts upon a long unrequited crush in the strangest of circumstances.





	Golden Soul, Ashen Skin

The message had come through the hands of a plain looking Alliance messenger. The parchment had been mostly empty but for a few instructions written neatly towards that top; to find somewhere private and somewhere unseen and to wait there once night fell.

Jaina had, of course, been rather suspicious of the note at first but upon reading further she saw it had been sealed with the official seal of Stormwind. And, upon placing the parchment upon her desk had found her fingers to come away black due to what she later discovered on the back was a now smudged phrase “Trust me.”, presumably placed there by the King.

And so she set sail at dusk. Alone, she took a small ship and set out into the open waters of Tiragarde Sound, out from the Tradewind Markets. The dark cover of night had fallen by the time she reached far enough that no ships could see her. The wind blew steadily against the ship, rocking it calmly and rhymically. The breeze was cool, if slightly chilling, and Jaina drew her arms close to herself to shield off the cold as her nose grew pink with it.

With night having fallen it began to become difficult to see and so she  lit a single lantern and set it beside her as she waited for whatever it was she was supposed to be waiting for. Suspecting that she was to be alone for some time she sat against the starboard side railing and let her feet dangle over the side of the ship, far above the waters below.

Surprisingly, she sat there for perhaps only a few minutes when she heard the sound of wings flapping above her. Their sound was not one of a mere gull, and was instead the distinctly hardy wingbeat of a gryphon.

Jaina knew that this is what she was waiting for. Standing, she looked up, squinting into the night sky but struggled to see where the sound was coming from. It grew closer, yet her eyes still saw very little.

There was a thud, then an animalistic caw, and Jaina knew the gryphon had landed. As she turned she could now see the beasts mighty beak before her, though she could not make out the complete silhouette of the rider.

Jaina took the lantern in her hand, holding is in a light but firm grip. Her heart pounded in her chest, her gut telling her to run from whatever this was but her mind dwelling on that tiny smudged plea.

The figure on the back of the gryphon began to move and they dismounted. Jaina squinted into the darkness, trying desperately to make out who it was.

Her eyes did not have to work for long as the figure spoke, and the voice was so familiar it made her ache.

“Jaina,” the figure said, and Jaina knew right then and there who it was.

“Calia.”

Calia stepped forward, bringing herself into the light of the lantern. Jaina could immediately tell that she was far different than she once was but she found herself not caring, finding her feet to be bringing her closer and closer to her.

Jaina flung her arms around Calia, squeezing her tightly. She could not put into words the relief seeing the Princess of Lordaeron again brought her.

Though startled for a moment Calia squeezed back, holding Jaina just as tightly. Jaina felt her press her face into the side of her neck, and Calia was bizarrely both burning hot and frigidly cold at the same time. She pushed curiosity away for the moment and just allowed herself to hold and be held by someone she had missed so dearly.

Calia was the one to pull away first - though her hands still lingered within Jaina’s, their skin a stark contrast. Where Jaina’s hands were plump and pink Calia’s were ashen white. Jaina ached for Calia, having being just recently told what had happened to her.

“I’m sorry I did not come see you earlier I was… I was…” Calia said, struggling to find her words.

Jaina squeezed her hand reassuring. “I understand, though I have missed you.”

Calia smiled at that, her smile still lively despite her deathly white pallor and districtly inhuman incandescently white eyes.

“I have missed you too. I worried, when I heard what had happened to Theramore all those years ago. I thought I— we had lost you for good,” Calia paused, smiling sadly, “But here you are.”

“Here we are,” Jaina said, a pang in her heart flaring at the mention of Theramore.

“I must look quite different to the last you saw me,” Calia said, self-consciousness creeping into her voice. Now, up close, Jaina could hear the slight echo of Calia’s new voice. It was as if she was speaking through something hollow.

Jaina nodded. She couldn’t lie, Calia _did_ look different. Beyond the years they had been apart it was clear to see that Calia was no longer living through natural causes - just as Anduin had told her. She certainly looked undead though unlike the sea-mangled appearance her brother’s body had taken Calia seemed to glow from within.

Calia huffed. “Yet you look as beautiful as the day I last saw you. How maddening,” She said through a smile.

Jaina was somewhat at a loss of how to reply. She hadn’t expected those words for Calia but she would be amiss to say that they didn’t make her feel a little giddy. She breathed deep, pressing that feeling down. This was no time for such things.

Jaina decided the best thing to do was change the subject. “How are you fairing?”

Calia shrugged. “As well as to be expected, I suppose.”

“How many people know about this?” Jaina asked, curiosity gnawing at her. She prayed she was not overstepping. She can’t imagine how strange this must be for Calia.

Calia looked away, fiddling with her fingers. She fidgeted, as though she was ashamed of either the question, the answer, or both.

“Very few,” She confessed, “We thought it best if this was kept a secret. I doubt I’ll be welcomed with open arms in any of the Alliance ports looking like this, especially with the Banshee Queen hanging over all of our heads.”

Jaina nodded to herself. She understood what Calia meant. The news of Teldrassil had spread fast and it had spread absolute terror. She knew everyone was on edge with this war, each wondering who would be next. Jaina knew because she could feel it too, that sinking dread that came at the reminder of what they had to lose. And, with Calia looking as she did, she knew her presence would be likely to only fuel that terror.

Jaina, however, was not afraid. No, for Calia she only felt sympathy, for she could see the sorrow behind those shocking white eyes. She recognised the look of loss - she had seen it enough in the mirror to have a good eye for it.

Plus, with Derek having recently returned to her, she was getting used to see her lost loved ones return from the grave, and she loved them all the same. Not all those plagued by death became Arthas.

“I’m sorry,” Jaina said, her mouth moving seemingly without her commanding it, “For what happened to you. For your loss.”

Calia’s friendly smile fell slightly, the reminder clearly stinging despite the pleasant sentiments attached. “Thank you. I’m sorry, too. We lost too many good people that day.” Calia breathed a shaky breath. “I only wished I could have done more.”

Jaina’s heart clenched at that. “I’m sure you did all that you could. I know you would have.”

Calia shrugged. “Perhaps. Still, I feel as though I have failed.”

A feeling Jaina knew all too well. She placed a reassuring hand on Calia’s forearm, rubbing her thumb in an attempt at comfort. She knew no words would help her here, but she hoped her actions would.

The pair fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence. It was familiar, and Jaina felt no need to speak. The pair simply listened to the sounds of the ocean beneath them, and swayed with the breeze that rocked against the sails. There was nothing but blue-black darkness for as far as the eye could see, the stars above them shining as they always had. The lantern beside them still shone, the single beacon of yellow light for miles.

Calia’s gryphon had long since flown away and the only sounds were the sounds of their breaths - Jaina’s natural and Calia’s sounding practiced and purposeful - the bubbling on the ocean below, the creaking on the ship’s hull, and a rogue squawk from a gull every now and then.

Under the comfortable darkness and warmed by Calia’s strange and unnatural heat Jaina began to grow sleepy. It was often that she would stay up through the night to study whatever she could but since she had arrived in Kul Tiras that occurrence had begun to happen less and less. Jaina, loathe as she was to admit it, was getting old.

“Where are you staying these days?” Jaina asked.

Calia looked somber at the question. She shrugged. “I have a place on the outskirts of Stormwind. I can’t exactly be seen,” Calia paused, her eyes flicking to the floor. “King Wrynn and the Prophet try to stop by when they can but… it gets lonely.”

“Stay here,” Jaina said suddenly.

Calia seemed puzzled by the response.

Jaina cleared her throat, realising she had spoken unclearly. “For tonight at least. Stay here with me until morning. There’s a warm bed below deck. No one will notice we’re gone until the sun rises.”

Calia smiled to herself, then moved to intertwine her fingers with Jaina’s.

“I hope I am not misunderstanding you but…” Calia started.

Jaina swallowed, her heart begin to beat rapidly once more. In one simple phrase she was transported back to Lordaeron, back to the sunny days and back to those strange little flutters she felt whenever Calia flashed her one of her charismatic and charming smiles. She hadn’t realised it then, being preoccupied with Arthas, but she thought now they she may have had some feelings about Calia she’d been unable to process.

The fingers laced in her own burned like holy fire. Jaina held on to them tightly, hoping all the things she couldn’t say would be said through her touch. “I don’t believe you are.”

Calia laughed, her voice breathy. “I’ve thought about this for a while.”

“Even…?”

“Yes, even then.” Calia paused for a moment. “I must confess I was rather jealous of our dear Arthas.”

Jaina huffed a laugh at that, ducking her head to hide her face in her bangs. She had to wonder what would have happened had Calia told her this long ago.

Calia smiled and brought her hand to Jaina’s chin, lifting her head up so she could no longer hide. Jaina’s cheeks felt hot, and was glad to see the faintest hint of a blush on Calia’s face too.

Though curiosity wondered what could have been, her heart knew that this could not have happened at any other time. They’d both loved, lost, changed and grown. They’d become both the women they had once been and something more, something stronger. Jaina knew that this was the Calia she wanted by her side, and she knew that she was the Jaina she wanted to offer.

Jaina ran her fingers across Calia’s palm, her touch feather light. She found her eyes flicking from Calia’s eyes to her lips, now purple with undeath but still eerily the same as they always were. She felt her heart stutter as she saw Calia doing the same.

“I want to kiss you,” Jaina said rather breathlessly. “Oh tides, I want to kiss you.”

“Is that a good idea?” Calia replied, sounding equally flustered.

Jaina laughed, the sound bubbling out of her through pure nerves. “I don’t know,” she said, “But I do not think I’ll be able to forgive myself if I don’t.”

Calia moved forward first, emboldened by Jaina’s words. Calia leaned forward, bumping their noses together. Jaina’s breath was heavy and she wondering if Calia could feel it against her.

Jaina let out a whine as their lips met. The experience was shockingly new. Calia was so soft, so warm, so wonderful. It made her feel light headed. Oh Light, it felt like she was a young woman again, fresh faced and in love for the first time.

Jaina’s hands twitched, itching to find purchase. She brought them up, cupping Calia’s cheeks so gently it was as though she was afraid she was would break. Jaina’s hand trembled, the years of longing she’d left unanswered finally awakened.

Calia wove her hands into Jaina’s hair, her fingers slipping easily into the back of her braid, loosened by the day previous. She did not tug, and was instead tentative and gentle, taking care of where her fingers lay.

When they pulled back Calia’s eyes were unfocused and her mouth held a bright smile. It made Jaina want to kiss her again. Light, had she always been like this? She could not remember the last time someone had made her feel like this. It was if years ago an ember had been placed within her waiting for Calia to stir it and create a bonfire.

Calia laughed, the sound nervous and giggly.

“I feel like I could do this forever,” Calia confessed, “It’s been so long. I feel as if I have to make up for lost time.”

Jaina hummed. “As do I.”

Calia beamed at her, sunshine seeming to pour from her very being. Her change had done nothing to dim her charm. She idly wondered if perhaps Arthas, too, had looked like this behind that horrific spiked helmet. Probably not, she reasoned. Calia still had her soul, Arthas had lost his and he must have looked as outwardly grotesque as he had become inwardly.

But she did not want to dwell on the past too long. She’d done that more than long enough already. And it seemed as though there was a promising future she had to look forward to.

“So you’ll stay?” Jaina asked.

Calia nodded. “I’d rather be nowhere else.”

Jaina felt warm under Calia’s soft gaze. She felt special and adored. It was intoxicating.

“There are sleeping cabins below deck,” Jaina said, “Would you care to join me?”

“Of course. Lead the way.”

As a young girl Jaina had always dreamed of a future with a Menethil. After Stratholme she’d locked that vision away, the hope she’d felt for years far too painful to remember. She thought she’d been a fool.

In the end she was right to dream. The dream just needed some modifications.

**Author's Note:**

> what. don't look at me like that.
> 
> if you wanna hear more gay warcraft shit my twitter is @yuliciagames


End file.
